Out of the Whirlwind
by jouve25
Summary: Post 'A Tangled Webb' Everyone is back home, and everything has returned to the status quo. Or has it?


Out of the Whirlwind  
  
----------------------------  
  
By: Anand Rao  
  
Summary: Post 'A Tangled Webb' - Webb/Mac, then Harm/Mac (of course)  
  
A/N: Okay, so after the last five episodes of Season 8 aired, I got completely stuck on 'The Only Constant'. Some time after the season-ending cliffhanger, this story entered my brain.   
  
-------------------------------  
  
Harm rubbed his tired eyes and tried to read the document in front of him. Sometimes, sifting through evidence was like finding a needle in a haystack, and this time, his client needed a fistful of needles.   
  
Mac sighed from her seat across from his desk. "Harm, can we continue this tomorrow morning? We have three days before going to court, and I can't read any more. . ."  
  
Harm glanced at his watch. It was a little after 5 PM. "Got somewhere to be?" He asked, absentmindedly, still searching through the document.   
  
"Actually. . . Clay and I. . . Well, we have a date."  
  
Harm's eyes snapped up to her face, but her eyes were pointed at her shoes. His throat was suddenly dry. "Really?"  
  
"Yeah," she quietly replied.  
  
"This. . . this is your first date since Brumby, isn't it?"  
  
Mac looked up quizzically. "Yeah."  
  
Harm forced himself to smile. "It's good. . . that you're getting back on the horse, so to speak."  
  
"I thought. . . that it was time."  
  
Harm remained silent, just staring at her. A few moments passed by and Mac became increasing uncomfortable. "So? Can we go finish going over the evidence tomorrow?"  
  
"Sure," Harm faintly replied.   
  
"Great. I'll see you later." Mac stood up and quickly left his office.   
  
Harm leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes once more. "This is going to be a mess," he muttered.  
  
After returning from Paraguay, Harm found himself unemployed for a day at most, before the Admiral had informed him that his resignation had never been processed. Webb had survived his ordeal and was back in good standing in Washington. Mac was back trying cases instead of judging them. Everything was back to normal, including his relationship with Mac. Now that she was back, Harm had still not figured out how to keep her. And now. . . well, it was a moot point anyway.  
  
********************************************  
  
"This is amazing, Clay. I've always wanted to come here, but I've heard that it takes over six months to get a reservation."  
  
Clay had taken her to Jean-Michel, an exclusive French restaurant located near Bethesda.   
  
Clay smiled sardonically. "Really? I have a table here. Although, it's been quite some time since I've been back."  
  
"Well, you come with all sorts of unexpected benefits, don't you?" Mac replied playfully.  
  
"I'd like to think so." Clay's eyes soften as he stared at her. "I'm pleasantly surprised that you agreed to this, Sarah. I'm glad that you're giving this a chance."  
  
"It felt right," she said simply.   
  
"I'm not sure I want to be around when Rabb finds out," Clay cautiously offered.  
  
"He already knows. I told him this afternoon."   
  
"Really? This evening is just full of surprises. How did he take it?"  
  
Mac unknowingly sighed. "Remarkably well."  
  
"You sound disappointed."  
  
Mac dismissively waved off his concern. "Don't' be silly, Clay."  
  
Webb hesitated. "Sarah, I know the two of you have some unfinished business and-"  
  
"We don't have unfinished business, Clay. Harm and I never started anything. It. . . it would have been nice, but that's in that past." She reached across the table and held his hand. "Now. . . I didn't come here to talk about Harm." She smiled teasingly and seductively.   
  
Webb decided to swallow any protest to the contrary, and just enjoy they evening.  
  
********************************************  
  
Mac entered JAG headquarters feeling better than she had in a long time. It was *good* to go out on a date. She had forgotten how much she missed the romance, the awkward flirting, and the anticipation. Noticing that Harm was already in his office, she headed in that direction.  
  
The door was open, so she walked inside. "Morning, Harm. Give me a few minutes to get some coffee, and we can continue hunting through the evidence."  
  
Harm looked up from his computer screen and smiled. "Don't bother." He held up what seemed to be a blurry fax with a lot of notes written on it. "I found what we need."   
  
Mac walked closer to his desk and he handed her the document. She took a few moments to scan it, then looked at Harm in delighted surprise. "This is it!" She exclaimed.  
  
"So, do you think we should talk to Sturgis about cutting a deal?"  
  
"Definitely." Mac smiled. "Nice work, Harm!"  
  
Harm's mood dipped a bit. He had a sudden irrational feeling that Mac was being condescending. Biting down on his anger, he nodded his head. "I always aim to please."  
  
Before Mac could reply, a very pregnant Harriet Simms walked into Harm's office, carrying a large bouquet of red roses. "These just arrived for you, Colonel. Should I put them in your office?"  
  
"Oh, that's okay, Harriet, I'll take them." Mac gently relieved the bouquet from Harriet.   
  
"Not a bad way to start a Monday, right Maam?" Harriet waddled back to her desk.  
  
Mac looked at the flowers, then glanced at Harm. "Um. . ."   
  
"Go on, you got a card to read and a phone call to make, I'd imagine." Harm smiled, emoting a pleased look in his eyes. "Grab me when you're ready to talk to Sturgis."   
  
"Yeah, sure. . ." Mac looked down, hesitant to step out of his office. She felt a sense of distance grow between herself and Harm, and didn't know why or how to stop it. "Harm, this thing between Clay and me. . . it doesn't change anything with us."  
  
Harm nodded his head. "I know," he quietly replied.  
  
Not feeling at all reassured, she walked out of his office. As soon as she left, Harm buried his head in his hands. "I should take up playing poker," he muttered.  
  
********************************************  
  
"Webb."  
  
"Clay, this is Mac. I loved the flowers. Thank you so much. . ."  
  
Webb smiled, although he felt a bit disconcerted. He could hear her practically gush through the phone. "I'm glad you liked them, Sarah."  
  
"You deserve a reward for being so sweet, Secret Agent Man," she teasingly replied.  
  
"I'll settle for another date."  
  
"How about tomorrow night?" Mac suggested. "This time, I'll plan it."  
  
"Oh? What did you have in mind?"  
  
"Just pick me up at my place at 1900. It'll be fun. . . I promise."  
  
"Sounds intriguing. I'll see you then, Sarah."  
  
********************************************  
  
"So, who are the flowers from?"  
  
Mac smiled, put the finishing touches on a document and took a sip of coffee. "Hey, Sturgis. Still smarting from Harm's revelation?"  
  
"I've managed to move past that," Sturgis replied, stepping into her office. "You didn't answer my question."  
  
"Clayton Webb."  
  
Sturgis blinked. "Really. Any sort of special occasion?"   
  
Mac's smile brightened. "Not really."   
  
"I. . . see."  
  
"Was there something you needed, Sturgis?"  
  
"I have two tickets to the ballet for tomorrow night. Bobbi cancelled at the last minute. I was wondering if you'd like to take them off my hands."  
  
Mac thought about it for a moment. "Sure, I'll take them. Thanks!" She idly tapped a pen against the side of her face. (Clay's into this high brow cultured stuff. It'd be a neat surprise.)  
  
"Great. I really didn't want them to go to waste." Sturgis handed her a small ticketmaster envelope and walked out of her office. He paused in the bullpen for a few moments, and then went to see Harm.  
  
  
  
********************************************  
  
"Harm, do you know why a CIA agent is sending Colonel MacKenzie flowers?"   
  
"Hey, Strugis." Harm's hands formed a steeple in front of him. "Come in and close the door."  
  
Sturgis did as requested and sat down. "Something going on, buddy?"  
  
"Mac and Webb started dating," Harm explained.  
  
"Really?" Sturgis asked flatly. "That's. . . surprising."  
  
Harm shrugged his shoulders, attempting an unaffected pose. "The two of them got close in Paraguay, I guess."  
  
"Are you okay with this?" Sturgis cautiously asked.  
  
"Why wouldn't I be?" Harm demanded in return.  
  
"Well, the two of you are close." Sturgis paused. "She's the closest thing to female companionship you've had in a quite a while."  
  
"Thanks for the reminder." Harm's voice was dry.  
  
"I'm serious. Are you okay?"  
  
Harm sighed. "I'm fine, Sturgis. Playing the jealous idiot got me nowhere last time. No need to repeat THAT mistake."  
  
(No, you're too busy repeating plenty of others,) Sturgis thought. He was about to speak when Harm's phone rang. "Talk to you later," he offered instead.  
  
Harm picked up the phone as Sturgis exited his office. "Rabb."  
  
"Hello, Commander. It's Catherine Gale."   
  
Harm paused for a moment. He had almost forgotten about his 'wife.' "Miss Gale! It's good to hear from you. How's your mother?"  
  
"She's doing remarkably well!" Harm could almost hear her brighten over the phone. "That's why I called, actually. She wants to see you."  
  
Harm shook his head. "Catherine. . ."  
  
"I told her you'd been out of town, but she's been impatient," she explained in a rush. "I know I need to tell her the truth about us, but. . ."  
  
Harm sighed. "Is she still at the hospital?"  
  
"No, she's back home now."  
  
"Give me the address, I'll meet you there at about 6:30, okay?"  
  
"Thank you so much, Commander. I really do appreciate this."  
  
Harm sighed once more. "Call me Harm. There's no need to be that formal with your husband, after all."  
  
********************************************  
  
"Not that I'm complaining, but how did you manage to get ballet tickets on such short notice?"  
  
"Can't your super secret sources tell you?" Mac playfully asked. She cut into her steak with gusto and eyed Webb challengingly.   
  
"My super secret sources, as you put them, have more important things to do than catalog the actions of a certain Marine Colonel."   
  
Webb was more than happy to allow Mac to plan their entertainment for the evening. He did, however, suggest the restaurant they currently occupying. Many of those who worked at the CIA dined there, in fact.  
  
Mac laughed. "What about you? Do have more important things to do?"   
  
Webb glanced at his watch. "Not for several more hours yet."  
  
Mac's laughter became slightly strained. She wasn't quite sure that he was joking. Suddenly, he was looking beyond her, with a rather shocked look on his face. "I've been out of the loop too long," he muttered.  
  
Mac turned around to discover what had caught his attention. Her reaction mirrored, if not exceeded, Webb's. "Isn't that. . . Miss Gale?"  
  
"Yeah. I had no idea she and Harm had become. . . friends."  
  
"Either had I," she replied softly.   
  
"Should we go say 'hi' or something?" Webb asked uncertainly.  
  
"No!" Mac exclaimed. "We're on our date. They. . . They're on theirs."  
  
"Right."   
  
As Mac cut viciously into her steak, Webb shook his head. (If she wasn't so damn amazing, I wouldn't be such a sap,) he thought slightly morosely. (Too late now, I guess. I'm already caught up in their whirlwind.)  
  
********************************************  
  
"You know, dinner really wasn't necessary." Harm bit into his smoked salmon and stared at his dinner companion.  
  
"Consider it a 'thank you' for your help this evening." Catherine's face quirked into a small smile. "Besides, we've only been married for two months! The honeymoon is hardly over."  
  
Harm laughed and tilted his head to one side. "I wondered if you had a sense of humor."  
  
"Let's just say that only a select few get to see it." She folded her hands on top of the table. "Seriously, Harm. Thank you for tonight. I'm not sure I could have got through all that alone."  
  
"Your mother's a sweet lady, Catherine. It's a good thing that we told her the truth." He looked at her pointedly. "She's stronger than you give her credit for."  
  
"I know, I know. . . It's just. . ."  
  
"It's natural to protect to people we love," Harm began gently, "but we were just asking for trouble, and you know it."  
  
"True." Catherine shrugged her shoulders. "We've finished pretending, anyway."  
  
Harm chuckled. "Good thing, too. I'd hate to have to give up my 'vette for a family car."  
  
"Harm," Catherine paused hesitantly, "would you like to go out to dinner next week?" She continued in a rush. "I mean, if you're not too busy or anything!"  
  
Harm's state of mind dipped considerably. "I. . . don't think that would be a good idea."   
  
Catherine looked down into her lap. "I see."  
  
Harm winced. "It has nothing to do you, really."  
  
"No, it's okay." Catherine looked back at him, her head tilted inquisitively to one side. "You're not interested at all, are you?"  
  
For a brief moment, his well-placed mask fell, and she saw such a deep and sad pain in his eyes, that she gasped involuntarily.   
  
"You wouldn't want me to be interested, Catherine."   
  
"Why would you say something like that?" She asked softly.  
  
"Because I've screwed up too many relationships, and messed up too many lives." The tone of his voice was simple and sad, and it shocked her more than the admission itself. . .  
  
and just like that, the mask was back in place.  
  
********************************************  
  
Harm was in a melancholy mood as he worked on his monthly status report. Catherine Gale was a beautiful, caring, and intelligent woman. He was somewhat proud of himself for not taking her down his hand-made path of emotional baggage and relationship destruction.   
  
He also wanted to kick himself.  
  
Hard.  
  
(When the hell did I start turning down beautiful women?) He thought incredulously.   
  
After Rene and after Mic, he figured that he had some sort of understanding with Mac.   
  
He knew he had. . . feelings for her. He couldn't quite define them yet, but they were there. He hadn't even tried to find another woman, thinking that limbo with Mac was better than certainty with anyone else.  
  
Apparently, Mac hadn't felt the same way.   
  
He was certainly tempted by Catherine. That one kiss they shared was sweeter than anything in recent memory. However, she was too nice a person to be treated like a consolation prize. He just couldn't do that to her.  
  
Surprisingly, a smile grew on Harm's lips. "Maybe I'm growing up," he muttered wryly.  
  
"Hey Harm. Are you going to be done with your status report sometime before lunch?" Mac queried from his office door.  
  
"I'll email it to you in another ten minutes or so, Mac," Harm replied, eyes riveted on his computer screen.  
  
"No hurry," Mac casually offered. "So. . . Do anything special last night?"  
  
"Not really." Harm's voice sounded slightly distracted.  
  
"Oh. I see." Mac stepped into his office. "So that wasn't you I saw having dinner with Catherine Gale last night."  
  
Harm's face jerked and he stared at Mac quizzically. "Were you spying on me?"  
  
"Funny you should use the word 'spy'. Clay and I were at the same restaurant as the two of you."  
  
Harm turned back towards his computer. Her relationship with Webb was the last thing he wanted to talk about. "Well, that explains it then."  
  
"So, how long have the two of you been dating?" Mac's voice seemed calm, but Harm sensed a bit of anger, and was confused by it.  
  
He sighed. "We're not dating, Mac. That was more of a 'thank you' dinner."  
  
"And what were you thanking her for? All her help with the Tiger Shark case?" Mac asked sarcastically.  
  
"Whoa. Slow down a minute, Mac! What are you so angry about?"  
  
She slowly closed his door then walked to the front of his desk. "We're best friends, Harm! I told you about Clay before we even had our first date. I know it's a difficult concept, but I'd appreciate a little more openness on your part."  
  
"If Catherine and I were dating, then yes, I would have told you, but since we're not, it's a moot point, wouldn't you say?"  
  
Mac folded her arms across her chest. "You're really not seeing her?"  
  
Harm wanted desperately to smile. He was intimately aware of what jealously looked like. (Maybe I'm not out of your heart yet, Marine.) Instead, he sighed once more. "I'm really not seeing her, Mac."  
  
"Okay then." Mac firmly nodded her head and quickly exited his office, leaving a blinking, confused Harm behind.  
  
********************************************  
  
Mac sat in her office, slumped at her desk. "What the hell possessed me to act like such a moron?"  
  
If Harm had started dating Catherine Gale *after* she had started dating Clay, then she wouldn't have had much of a problem with it. But the thought that he was seeing another. . . *blonde* months ago, when he could have had her, just torqued her mind.  
  
She shook her head and sighed. (Maybe Clay was right. Maybe I do have some unresolved issues with Harm.)  
  
Her phone rung and she quickly answered it.  
  
"Good morning, Sarah. It's Clay."  
  
"Hey, good morning!" Mac felt herself cheering up slightly.  
  
"So, I talked to Catherine Gale today. . . She's not dating Harm."  
  
"I know. I just talked to Harm this morning."  
  
"Here's the funny thing though," Clay continued. "She's interested. Harm turned her down."  
  
Mac blinked. "She told you that?"  
  
"I have ways of making people talk," Webb explained with perfect aplomb.  
  
Mac groaned. "So did she say why Harm turned her down?"  
  
"She said he just wasn't interested. But she got the impression that there might have been another reason."  
  
Mac knew immediately where Webb was going, and decided to stop him before he could start. "I guess we'll never know."  
  
"You could always ask Harm," Clay suggested mildly.  
  
"I'm really not that curious," Mac replied stiffly.  
  
"Sarah. . ."  
  
"Clay, are you looking for a reason to stop seeing me?" Mac demanded. "If you are, there's no reason to use Harm!"  
  
"Of course not, Sarah." Clay's voice was patient. "But I've known you and Harm for a long time, and even though he's an oblivious idiot, somewhere during the course of your friendship, you fell in love with him." Clay took a deep breath, waiting for Mac to contradict him. When she didn't, he continued. "I'm not sure you ever fell out. I don't think you're sure either. That's all. . . You're a special woman, Sarah and I would love to build something with you, but not if you're heart isn't available."  
  
"Clay. . ."  
  
"Look, we've only been dating for a little over a week, so there's no rush. But you're going to have to talk to him eventually."  
  
Mac sighed. "I'll think about it."  
  
"I can't ask for more. Um. . . Are you up for dinner again tonight?"  
  
Mac laughed. "One thing's for sure, I can't fault your timing! Actually, I need to work on a case. Harm's won the last four times we went head-to-head and if this streak continues, his head is going to get so big, it'll explode!"  
  
"Well then, good luck, Sarah. Nail Rabb's ass to the wall!"  
  
"Thanks, Clay. I'll call you later."  
  
********************************************  
  
Harm put his hands behind his back and whistled casually as he walked out of the courtroom.  
  
"Not one word, Commander," Mac ordered, walking in step beside him. Her stance was a much less casual.  
  
"Did I say anything?" His voice was so innocent it set Mac's teeth on edge.  
  
"I can read your mind, Harm."  
  
"Then you know I wasn't think about how this the fifth time in five tries that I've beat you. I wasn't even thinking about my lead in our overall record."  
  
Mac, with great effort, stifled a smile. He was at his best when he was being arrogant. Confident, irritating, and sexy as hell. She'd never let him know, though. "Oh? So what were you thinking about?"  
  
"I thought you said you could read my mind," Harm reminded her.  
  
Mac rolled her eyes. "Only when you're using it, which is hardly ever."  
  
Harm grinned.   
  
That was the other thing. Insults rarely bothered him if he was dealing from a position of power.  
  
"I was thinking that we should go to lunch."  
  
"I'm sorry, Harm, I can't. I need to leave early today, so I'm working through lunch."  
  
"Ah. Another date with Webb?" Harm asked.  
  
Mac wordlessly nodded her head.   
  
"Okay, then. Maybe another time." Harm forced a smile, and walked away from her.  
  
********************************************  
  
Over the course of the next two months, Harm focused solely on work. He won every case he handled, took on extra cases, and even finished his paperwork on time. His star was definitely on the rise, at least, career-wise. He had asked Mac out to lunch three more times, and lost a little more hope with each refusal. The worst of it was that he really couldn't blame her; his feelings for her remained convoluted and uncertain. Unfortunately, it seemed they had difficulty in even maintaining a friendship.  
  
During this time, Mac and Webb saw each other at least two nights a week. Their dates were mutually enjoyable; nights filled with exotic dinners, dancing, plays, ballets, and good conversation. Yet, at the end of each night, Clay offered her a kiss good night and nothing more. He was the perfect gentleman. So much so that some of Mac's insecurities about men began a rapid and worrisome rise. It was at the end of one of their dates, when he had taken her home, that she finally decided to confront him.  
  
Webb leaned back from their kiss and smiled softly and sweetly. "Good night, Sarah."  
  
"Why don't you come in for a bit, Clay? Maybe. . . have some coffee?" Mac suggested.  
  
Webb glanced at his watch. "Coffee keeps me up all night, and I really need to be up early tomorrow."  
  
(Perhaps he can't take a hint,) Mac thought, deciding on a more direct approach. "To hell with the coffee. Why don't you come inside anyway."  
  
"Sarah. . ."  
  
"It's been over two months, Clay! I mean, we past the Three Date Rule a long time ago." Mac blushed, realizing what she was inferring, but her curiosity and low self-esteem overrode everything else.  
  
Clay swallowed back his nervousness. (What a mess. . .) He took her hands in his. "Sarah, have you talked to Harm yet?"  
  
She jerked her hands away from his grip. "Are you back on that again?"  
  
"Have you talked to him?" Clay repeated.  
  
"No." Mac turned away. "Actually, I've been avoiding him," Mac admitted.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Maybe I just don't want to! Maybe I don't want to hear what he wants to say! Did you ever think about that!" Mac exploded.  
  
Clay accepted her anger in stride. "What are you scared of?"  
  
Mac's shoulders sagged, her anger gone. "I don't know."  
  
"Sarah. . . If he really doesn't have your heart, then he can't break it."  
  
She looked at him then, and suddenly, he knew. (Out of the whirlwind,) he thought sadly.  
  
He continued anyway, just to make a token gesture. "I can't move on to the next stage of our relationship, Sarah. Not until I know for sure."  
  
Mac just nodded her head, opened the door to her apartment, and stepped inside.  
  
Webb sighed. "Well. It was nice while it lasted."  
  
********************************************  
  
It was a little past midnight when Harm heard the insistent knocking on his front door. He dragged himself out of bed, glanced at his nightstand clock, and groaned. He'd been in bed for less than an hour. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he shuffled to the door and opened it.  
  
"Mac!" He should have expected her. No one else interrupted his sleep at all hours of the night, but they had not hung out in quite some time, and he was somewhat certain that she and Webb had had a date that night. He decided not to dwell too much on the thought of the two them spending the night together.   
  
"Um, were you asleep?" She asked lamely. Her mind had been racing since her talk with Webb. He was right, she decided. She needed to get Harm completely in, or out, of her system. She was ready to start making demands as soon as he opened the door, but the sight of him, standing there looking cutely half asleep, wearing nothing but a pair of blue silk boxer shorts, short circuited her brain completely.   
  
Harm stepped aside, allowing her to enter. "Yeah," he replied. "Is something wrong?"  
  
She stood in the middle of his living room, staring at nothing. "I just need to talk to you."  
  
Harm chuckled, a bit bitterly. He walked passed her and entered the bedroom. "You haven't need to talk to me for two months," he called out.  
  
Mac winced. "I know, and I'm sorry about that. But I really need to talk to you now."  
  
Harm came back from the bedroom, donning a shirt and pair of sweat pants. "Then I'm here for you, Mac." He paused meaningfully. "I'm always here, no matter what, okay?"  
  
That statement hit her like a wave and she was reminded of a time when they were so much closer. A time before Mic, before Harm returned to flight duty. She realized then that she had missed him; truly and deeply.  
  
Unbidden, tears appeared in her eyes, and she went to him, enveloping him in a tight hug. "I'm sorry, Harm."  
  
The sight of her tears alarmed him, but he hugged her back. "Mac? What's wrong?"  
  
She took a deep breath, her eyes wet. "Do you have feelings for me, Harm? Any at all?"  
  
Harm looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Mac, you and Webb-"  
  
"Forget about Clay for a second! This isn't about him! It's about you and me; no one else."  
  
His arms dropped away from her body and he turned away. This was his chance, probably his last. He knew what she wanted to hear, but he couldn't be anything else but honest. "Mac, I can't begin to describe my feelings for you." His voice was ragged. "I miss you when you're gone. I love working with you, and against you, not because you're the best lawyer I know, but because I get to talk to you, look at you, see you smile." He turned back towards her, and she unconsciously took a step back. She'd never seen his eyes so intense. "I hate the thought of anyone hurting you, and it scares me to death that I cause you pain." He was breathing quickly and deeply, unable to continue.   
  
And suddenly, Mac understood. He never said it outright, but it showed it every action, ever word. She once accused him of only showing interest in her when she was out of reach. But that wasn't true. He was always interested; she just never read the signals correctly. (Oh, Harm. . .) She gently touched his face, forcing him to look at her. "It sounds like you love me," she said simply.  
  
Harm's eyes widened and she could feel fear radiating off of him in waves. "Do you want to know how I know that?" She quickly asked. "Because, I miss *you* when you're gone. I love working with you and against you, because I get to talk to you, see you smile, and see your passion for truth. I hate the thought of anyone hurting you, and it scares *me* that you'll die one day because you're connected to me." She leaned forward, whispering in his ear. "And you know what? I love you, Harm."  
  
His eyes showed shock and disbelief. He couldn't begin to process her admission. "Harm, I know you love me, but I need you to say it. Here. Tonight. If you can't," she began to cry, "then I need you to me go, completely, because I can't do this anymore." She was sobbing heavily by the time she finished.  
  
"Mac. . ." He cradled her face in his hands, gently wiping away her tears. His fear of losing her was as strong as ever, but he couldn't let her go, not this time, and not without telling her. "I love you," his voice was hoarse, his eyes wet. "I love you, and I never want to let you go."  
  
She smiled through her tears, her pain fading. She leaned up and kissed him, gently and softly. "Now, you'll never have to."  
  
********************************************  
  
(This the best morning of my life,) Harm decided the next day in his office. He woke up with Mac in his arms, and even though that had done nothing more than cuddle, it felt better than sex. He grinned wickedly. (Of course, it's been so long since I've had sex, that I might be romanticizing things a bit.)   
  
As these thoughts floated through his head, Clayton Webb entered his office. "Good morning, Clay," he greeted quietly. "If you're looking for Mac, she won't be back in the office until later this afternoon. She's out interviewing witnesses."   
  
"I know. I came here to see you," Clay replied evenly.  
  
Harm felt uncomfortable in Clay's presence. Not threatened, exactly, because he was confident, *really* confident of Mac's faith and love. But Webb was a good man, and he got the short end of the stick in this situation. "Oh? What can I do for you?"  
  
"First, I never thanked you for saving me life in Paraguay. So. . . Thank you."  
  
"You're welcome, Clay."  
  
"Second, I wanted to give a piece of advice: Don't mess this up." He turned away and began walking out of the office. "Remember, I know where you live."  
  
Harm smiled ruefully. (Don't worry, Clay. If anything in my life is worth doing right, this is it.) He went back to work, thoughts of Mac dancing through his head.  
  
****************************  
  
The End 


End file.
